FicWad

penny had realized she was no longer accompanied by anyone, not love nor terror. the whole world, this lit up town, and the hills overlooking the disaster. nothing is the way she imagined it would be. it was rather lyrical, a discovery she had made. incredibly accurate or herself now. penny no longer cried, not since that night. two days had passed during which she didn't eat, sleep, move. everyone was destroyed, a feast for maggots. except for herself. she didn't want anyone else. her true mates she had already known, and they had already passed by her like a short-lived breeze. in thoughts of her past she was consumed, sitting on the living room floor, still staring through the wide window without expression. her eyes were revealing, nude with her emotions, yet her brow remained unmoved. bags of purple and pale cream below them, and bruises on her face. her lips were torn in half, her temple still throbbing with the pain she was soon to ignore. her breath was cold, like icicles, confused between life and death. penny had become careless, mentally and physically. running away was easier now, yet it weighed on her chest like a boulder.

her strut was slow and her feet dragged, face carrying still no feeling. she had stood and slid into her bag, finding in there a small box. she opened the box revealing a small, dull and browning razor. with her thin fingers, she carried it back to her initial place, and dropped back down in position. the room was darkening, the sound of thunder hit her ears. she looked down at the blade that she had cupped in her hands. how a turn of events had made a life so inexplicably hurtful. now horror took her. how a mother could dismiss a child, how a stranger could touch her skin without permission, how a boy could rush to her lips and smile, how a girl could live for her and give up the one thing that can't be returned. penny was alone, and she wasn't willing to deny this anymore.
penny took the blade and placed it on her left wrist. the cold metal shocked her and dropped her already low temperature. her mouth bubbled, saliva oozing from between her swollen lips and dripping on the wooden floor. the razor ran along the pale skin quickly, a clean cut now visible. a thin, transparent layer of skin remained uncut, a hole in the vein causing blood to fill up inside. she took her right hand to the cut and pulled it apart. the skin broke, millions of red particles pouring onto the ground. her wet chin flickered, her lips grinned, her eyes closed. pleasure.

i did not feel anything. i wasn't thinking, nor did i care about it. nothing mattered anymore, and that's all i knew. my knees became wet with hot blood, freezing instantly when contacting the cold ground. my feet slipped. i touched the liquid and rubbed it between my fingers, placed it upon my lips. the cut gurgled from time to time, to which i responded by pushing and running my hand up my forearm. the blood poured with no end, like a body of water. my head then began dozing off. my eyes began to cry. i could not see. white flashed covered my vision. i was blinded. my arms went up, stretched in front of my weakening body, until they involuntarily fell at my sides. i breathed hard. it was like i was still asleep at frankie's side.

the sound echoed through the house.

her hair formed a wet halo around her downward face, her arms at her sides, and the cloth she wore soaking up fluid. a gasp, a final contraction of the diaphragm, then a peaceful exhale. her body let go of all it was holding inside of it, at extreme rest. her last tear hung at the tip of her nose. when it dropped, it formed a transparent window in what was otherwise a canvas painted red. a rusty razor remained on the palm of her hand.


the end.